Reliance and Resilience
by storylover18
Summary: Someone is targeting the members of the BAU, Jack Hotchner, and Henry LaMontagne by making them sick. Will the team be able to figure out who's doing this to their friends and family before there's tragic consequences? Written late season 5/early season 6. Sick!fic plus Case!fic.
1. A New Parent

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**It's been a long time since I wrote anything in the Criminal Minds fandom but I've been bitten by the bug, it would seem. This is set when Jack is about five, which means it's likely around the end of Season 5/beginning of Season 6 (but before JJ left). I have no idea where this idea came from but I had to write **_**something**_** and this is what happened, more or less. I hope you enjoy it! **

"Daddy?"

Aaron Hotchner turned around from the open files on the kitchen table. The team had just returned from a week-long case in Byron Center, a small Michigan town, and he was behind on paperwork.

"Jack, you should be asleep. It's way past your bedtime."

"I don't feel good."

Aaron frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"My tummy hurts."

To prove his point, Jack's arms snaked around his stomach.

"Do you want something to drink?" Aaron asked. "Some warm milk, maybe?"

Jack nodded.

"Alright, go back to bed and I'll be there in a minute."

Jack went down the hall again and Aaron stood up. He warmed the milk and took the plastic cup into Jack's room.

"Here you go, buddy," he murmured, watching Jack take a few sips before giving the cup back. "No more?"

Jack shook his head and Aaron placed the cup on the bedside table.

"Try to go to sleep," Aaron said, pulling the quilt up around his five-year-old son. "Your tummy will feel better in the morning."

Aaron leaned down to kiss his son's forehead, frowning when he pulled away. He made note of the warm skin and left the room. He got as far as the door before Jack spoke again.

"Can you leave it open a little bit?"

Aaron smiled.

"Sure."

The door left ajar, Aaron went back to the kitchen table and tried to resume working but his focus was gone. He was worried about Jack, though he knew that he had no real reason to be. Kids got sick; it was a simple fact of life. It was probably something he picked up at kindergarten, which likely meant it was nothing serious. Even so, Hotch was concerned. He'd seen his fair share of hospitals and injuries but he wasn't well versed in the art of nursing the sick. Jessica normally took care of Jack but she had just left for a two week vacation that had been booked for almost a year and the BAU agent and lawyer knew the responsibility was on him to make sure Jack was alright.

Deciding it was futile to work anymore, Aaron packed his briefcase and turned the light out. He checked on Jack and climbed into his own bed. Despite having a long day, it took Aaron a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Aaron woke up at 6:30, as he usually did. He showered and dressed and when he was ready, went to Jack's room. His son was still asleep and Aaron sat on the edge of the bed.<p>

"Jack," he whispered, shaking the tiny shoulder. "Jack, it's time to wake up."

Jack groaned and rolled over, which he did every morning. Aaron chuckled.

"Come on, buddy. You'll be late for school."

"I don't want to go to school, Daddy."

Aaron frowned.

"But you love school. Today is Show and Tell, remember? You were going to bring that magic trick Mr. Reid gave you."

"I don't wanna."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel good."

Jack finally turned over and Aaron saw that his son certainly didn't _look_ well. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright and glassy. Immediately, Aaron's hand rested upon the small forehead.

"Does your tummy still hurt?"

Jack nodded.

"Alright," Aaron said with a sigh. "No school today."

* * *

><p>"J.J., I don't know what to do," Aaron said into his phone half an hour later. "Jessica is away."<p>

J.J., who was in her office, raised an eyebrow.

"You take a sick day, Hotch. We can manage one day without you."

"But I'm not sick."

"Fine, take a personal day." J.J. replied. "You know what I mean."

Aaron sighed.

"Hotch …" J.J. hesitated. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Hotch answered immediately.

"Are you sure?" J.J. replied. "Because I'm sure you didn't call me to ask if it was alright to take a day off to stay with your sick son."

Aaron sighed again. Sometimes he hated working with profilers because they saw things he didn't want them to see.

"I'm worried about him." Aaron admitted and J.J. smiled.

"Of course you are," she replied. "It's normal. When Henry had his first fever, Will and I were ready to take him to the emergency room we were so worried."

Hotch smiled.

"How do you get over it?"

"You don't. You just do your best to take care of him and recognize that unless you want Jack living in a bubble, there is nothing you can do to stop him from getting sick once and awhile."

Hotch sighed.

"What I've done doesn't feel like enough."

"Does he have a fever?"

"Yeah, one hundred and one," Hotch replied, glancing at the thermometer, which was still in his hand.

"Have you given him medicine?"

"Some Children's Tylenol."

"What about breakfast?"

"I tried but he won't eat. All he managed was some orange juice before falling asleep again."

J.J. smiled.

"You have nothing to worry about, Hotch."

Aaron frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You know how to take care of Jack. You've already done everything you can."

"It doesn't feel like enough." Aaron repeated.

"It never does," J.J. said sympathetically. "But it will be."

Outside her window, Rossi signalled her.

"Hotch? I've got to go but call me if you have any problems, alright?"

"Alright. Bye, J.J."

"Bye."

J.J. hung up the phone and went into the hallway.

"What's up?" she asked the agent.

"Do you know where Hotch is? He and I have a meeting to brief Strauss about the case."

"I was just talking to him," J.J. replied. "Jack is sick so Hotch is taking a personal day. I can do the briefing with you."

* * *

><p>Aaron hung up the phone and sighed. Parenting was never easy but it was these moments that got to him the most. He hated not being able to magically make everything all better for his son. Haley always had that magic touch when Jack felt sick – even just a simple tummy ache, Haley always knew how to make it better. Aaron felt the ache deep inside him as he longed for Haley's wisdom and guidance on what to do for their son.<p>

"Daddy?" Jack's voice drifted down the hall.

"Yes?" Aaron left the thermometer next to his phone and went down the hall.

"My tummy hurts," Jack whimpered. Acting purely on instinct, Aaron took his son to the bathroom and not five minute later, Jack threw up.

"It's okay, buddy," Aaron soothed, rocking Jack in his lap. Tears were streaming down his son's face and Aaron reached for a washcloth to wipe them away.

"Does your tummy feel better?"

"No." Jack replied miserably.

"Alright, one second."

Aaron left the bathroom and returned with Jack's pillow, blanket, and a stack of books. He leaned against the wall nearest the toilet, settled Jack on his lap, and began to read.

* * *

><p>The day went by quickly for the members of the BAU and it was almost five o'clock when J.J. found a moment to call Hotch.<p>

"What do you have, J.J.?"

"We're not on a case, Hotch. You could just say hello."

Aaron glanced at Jack before leaving his son's room.

"Sorry," he said. "Force of habit. What's up?"

"I just wanted to see how you two are holding up."

Aaron cradled the phone with one hand and poured a strong cup of black coffee with the other.

"We've had better days."

"How's Jack?"

"Miserable," Hotch answered. "He's been vomiting most of the day."

"Stomach flu?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," J.J. said. "That _is_ miserable, for you and for him."

"I think we've read every book on his bookshelf at least twice." Hotch replied "I managed to get some more medicine into him and it lasted long enough to take effect. He's sleeping now."

"Good," said J.J. "Has he eaten anything?"

"Nothing," Aaron answered, his own stomach growling at the mention of food. "I kept forcing water on him but it hasn't done much for the fever."

J.J. frowned.

"Have you called the doctor?"

"Not yet," Aaron said, opening the fridge. "I'll call tomorrow if he's still vomiting."

J.J. nodded despite Hotch not being able to see her.

"Do you need anything?"

As she was saying this, Hotch realized that there was next to no food in the fridge. He'd been planning on going to the grocery store that afternoon on his way home from work. He sighed, closing the fridge.

"Hotch?"

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Is there anything you need?"

"No, thanks."

"Are you sure? You sighed."

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose – another moment to hate having profilers as coworkers.

"I just remembered I need to get groceries," Hotch said. "I meant to do it this afternoon."

"What do you need?" J.J. asked.

"J.J.," Hotch said with a sigh. "You don't need to do my groceries. I'll order them online and they'll be delivered tonight."

"Not at this hour," J.J. insisted. "What do you need? It's on my way."

"No, it's not."

J.J. rolled her eyes.

"It's on _someone_'_s_ way. What do you need?"

Aaron, sensing his blonde co-worker was not going to let this go, sighed.

"The basics are fine for now. Break, milk, juice, eggs."

"What does Jack like to eat when he's sick? Soup? Crackers?"

"I don't know." Aaron said. "He hasn't been this sick since Haley died."

"Well, we'll pick up some soup and crackers just in case. What about fruit, what does he like?"

"Carrots and cucumbers."

"Got it." J.J. said, adding them to the list. "Anything else? Medicine?"

"I just opened a new bottle of medicine so that should be all," Aaron replied. "Thank you, J.J. I really appreciate it."

Having profilers as co-workers could be trying sometimes but there were also times when it paid off and now was definitely one of those times. J.J. smiled on the other end of the line.

"No problem. One of use will be by with groceries soon. In case it's not me, try and have a good night. Get some sleep."

"I'll try," Hotch replied. "Bye, J.J."

He hung up the phone and sighed deeply. Setting his mug on the coffee table, Aaron stretched out on the sofa and was asleep within minutes.

* * *

><p>J.J. left her office, her list in hand, and walked towards the team. They were done work for the day but were still socializing around Reid's desk. Morgan glanced at her as she approached.<p>

"How's Jack?"

J.J. didn't even bother to ask how he'd known she was calling Hotch.

"Miserable," J.J. replied. "He's got the stomach flu."

"Poor kid," Rossi muttered.

"How's Hotch?" Prentiss asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hanging in there," said J.J. "He sounded tired on the phone."

She held up the grocery list.

"He was planning on going to the grocery store this afternoon but never made it. Does anyone mind picking up a few things?"

"I'll go," Morgan volunteered, taking the list from J.J.

"Mind if I tag along?" Garcia asked and Morgan smiled at her.

"'Course not, Baby Girl."

"Great, just let me lock up the office and I'll be ready to go."

Garcia walked away and the group slowly dispersed to various desks to turn off computers, lamps, and pack their bags.

"Are you sure Hotch is alright?" Emily asked J.J., who sighed.

"I'm not sure. He mentioned this is the first time Jack has been this sick since Haley died. He didn't know what Jack would want to eat."

Emily frowned.

"But," J.J. continued. "He did know what fruit Jack liked … I don't know. Maybe I'm reading too much into it but I think Hotch is a little insecure in taking care of Jack when he's so sick."

"It's understandable," Prentiss replied, zipping her purse.

"Is it?" J.J. asked. "Jack is five, it's not like Hotch has never taken care of his son before."

"He probably hasn't," Emily pointed out. "Not like this, anyways. Until now, Haley or Jessica has always been there to take care of Jack if he got sick. Hotch probably feels a little bit like a new parent trying to navigate taking care of his son, even if he is five years old already."

J.J. nodded.

"I suppose. Speaking of children," she said, glancing at her watch. "I'd better get going. Henry and Will are waiting on me for dinner. See you tomorrow, Emily."

"Have a good night."

* * *

><p>"Alright," Morgan said, standing in the check-out line. "Milk, bread, eggs, juice, crackers, soup, carrots, cucumbers … Princess, what's all that?"<p>

Morgan looked at the various items on the conveyer belt that were not on the list.

"Supplies," Garcia said. "Don't you remember being sick as a kid?"

"No." Derek replied as the line inched forward.

"Oh, come on," Garcia exclaimed. "Popsicles? Bendy straws?"

"Nope," Morgan replied.

"You never got a bendy straw when you were sick?" Garcia sounded as though she couldn't believe someone's childhood could be complete without a bendy straw.

"I was lucky if I got to stay home from school when I was sick," Derek replied. "Much less get a bendy straw."

"Oh, Derek."

Garcia looked crushed but Morgan smiled at her.

"It's alright, Garcia. I'm just pulling your leg. I'm sure Jack will love them."

Garcia frowned at Derek, though they both knew she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Together they bagged the groceries and carried them to the car. Derek drove through the dark streets and parked in front of the building.

He and Garcia stood in the hallway, waiting for Hotch to open the door after they knocked but there was no answer. They exchanged a look and Derek tried again.

"It's open!" a faint voice called from inside and Derek cautiously tried the knob. Sure enough, the door swung open.

"Hotch? Is everything alright?" Derek called, reaching for his gun. For Aaron Hotchner to leave his door unlocked was unheard of. The truth was that Hotch knew a member of his team was coming but Jack had called for him. With a tired sigh, Aaron had undone the lock before hurrying down the hall, which was where he still was.

"Fine … well, sort of. We're in the bathroom." Hotch's voice carried down the hall, as did the sound of Jack throwing up.

"Poor Jack," Garcia said, closing the door behind them. She took her grocery bag to the kitchen while Derek slid the chain into the lock.

"Sounds rough," Derek agreed, setting his bag on the table. Garcia busied herself with putting the groceries away and Derek went down the hall. He peered into the bathroom and saw Jack curled up on Hotch's lap.

"Hey, little man," he said, smiling. Jack buried his face in his father's shirt. "How're you feeling?"

"Sick." Jack whispered, rubbing his eyes.

"Do you think you can go back to bed now?" Aaron asked and Jack nodded uncertainly.

"Okay," Hotch stood and Jack laid his head on Aaron's shoulder.

"I'll be right there," Hotch said to Morgan, who nodded. He went back to the kitchen and found Garcia making smoothies.

"What are you doing?"

"Making them dinner," Garcia said. "There's enough for you to have one, too."

"Baby Girl, I don't think Jack will want anything to eat. He just threw up."

"Oh, but I haven't talked to him yet. After I visit him, he'll have finished the whole thing."

"No way." Derek shook his head, amused.

"Yes," Garcia argued back. "I have the magic touch."

"Since when have you been able to get sick kids to eat?"

"It's a piece of cake, if you know how."

"And you do? Know how, I mean?"

"Of course I do. What don't I know?" Garcia teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine," Derek said. "Ten bucks says you can't get Jack to finish a smoothie."

"You're on." Garcia said as Hotch came into the kitchen.

"How is he?" Morgan asked, the smiling falling from his face. Hotch fell into the nearest kitchen chair.

"Like he said, sick."

"Here, Sir, have a smoothie." Garcia set a glass down, out of which poked a blue bendy straw.

"No, thanks, Garcia, I - "

"Sir, you need to eat. You've been with Jack all day and this will make sure you stay properly nourished."

Hotch sighed and took a sip of the smoothie, mostly just to make the lab tech happy.

"Do you mind if I go see Jack?" Garcia asked. "I made him one, too."

"You can try," Aaron said. "But he hasn't eaten a thing all day."

Garcia didn't seem deterred by this and took another smoothie – and a handful of straws – down the hall. Morgan shook his head but took the smoothie Garcia had made him and sat across from Hotch.

"Hanging in there?" he asked, slurping through his pink straw. Hotch used the straw to stir the smoothie before taking another sip.

"Barely," he said. "I'm worried about him. He hasn't eaten, can't keep any liquids or medicine down, the fever won't break …"

His voice trailed off.

"He'll be alright, Hotch. It's a simple case of stomach flu."

"I hope that's all it is."

"Come on," Derek said. "When was the last time you had the stomach flu? I'm sure you never felt like eating, either. It doesn't last long and I'm sure he'll be back to his normal self soon."

"I hope so," Hotch replied. "I hate seeing him like this."

"If it makes you feel better, Garcia is sure she can get Jack to eat his smoothie."

"Eating it isn't necessarily the hard part." Hotch said, raising an eyebrow. "Keeping it down is."

* * *

><p>Garcia knocked on Jack's door.<p>

"Hi, Jack," she whispered. "Can I come in?"

Jack nodded and Garcia sat on the edge of the bed.  
>"I brought you something," she said, holding out the smoothie. Jack shook his head and Garcia smiled sympathetically.<p>

"Your daddy told me your tummy has been really sore all day. I don't blame you for not wanting to eat. But," she said, a twinkle in her eye, "I brought something that will make it fun."

"What?"

Garcia held up the straws.

"These," she said. "We'll make a game of it," Garcia continued. "First, you put one straw in and take a sip. Then you put another straw in and take another sip. We'll see how many straws we can fit in the cup, alright?"

Jack looked unsure.

"My record is ten," Garcia said mischievously. "Do you think you can beat that?"

Jack shrugged.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Garcia said with a smile. "What colour do you want first?"

She held out all the straws to Jack and he picked a blue one.

"Good choice," Garcia said, holding the smoothie out. Jack put the straw in.

"One sip." Garcia instructed and Jack did as he was told. "Good job. What colour is next?"

The game progressed and Jack became so focused on getting more and more straws, he didn't realize that all the small sips were slowly draining the cup.

"I think this'll be the last one," Garcia said. "What colour?"

"Purple."

"Excellent." Garcia added the purple straw to the cup and Jack put all the ends in his mouth, taking a final sip. It made a slurping noise, evidence that the smoothie was gone.

"How many straws did you get?" Garcia asked, taking the cup. "I bet you can count them all. Your daddy says you know your numbers."

Jack nodded and counted the straws.

"Twelve!" he exclaimed. "I beat you!"

"Wow, great job! High five!"

Jack gave Garcia a high five, smiling.

"So, what do you think about a nap?" Garcia asked, knowing the next priority was to make Jack forget the fact he just ate a smoothie and the best way to do that would be to go to sleep. "I bet you're pretty tired after that game."

Jack nodded and Garcia tucked him in, taking the cup with her.

"Call if you need anything," she said, winking at him.

Triumphantly, Garcia went into the kitchen and placed the empty cup on the table in front of Morgan.

"What did I tell you?" she said, smiling.

"No way," Morgan said, tipping the cup towards him to make sure it was empty. "Baby Girl, you really are a miracle worker."

"That I am," she said, happily accepting the ten dollar bill Morgan handed her. Hotch looked at her.

"How did you get him to eat all of that? I've been trying all day to get him to eat."

"It's all about how you present it," Garcia replied, sitting down. "If you tell Jack he needs to eat, he won't want to because eating is associated with food, which he'll just throw up again. But if you tell him he's playing a game, he won't realize that he's actually eating. It takes a while but every little sip eventually results in an empty cup."

Hotch smiled.

"Well done," he said. "What's he doing now?"

"Hopefully going to sleep," Garcia replied. "You should do the same, Sir. You look exhausted."

Aaron nodded.

"I am. Thanks again for picking up the groceries."

"No problem, Hotch." Morgan said, standing. "I hope Jack feels better in the morning."

Aaron nodded.

"How much do I owe you?"

"We'll sort it out later," Morgan replied. "For now, just go to bed."

Aaron didn't bother arguing and walked with the agent and lab tech to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"Maybe," Garcia amended.

"Maybe," Hotch replied, smiling. "Good night."

"'Night."

"Good night, Sir."

Hotch locked the door after Morgan and Garcia left and walked down the hall. Jack was, thankfully, sleeping and unlike the night before, Aaron fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**I'm not sure how grand this story will become. I have elaborate plans but linking them together could prove challenging but there will be at least one more chapter and we'll see how it goes from there. I'll try and update ASAP but I'm moving halfway around the world in two weeks so paper work and packing is pretty much my life these days. **

**Please review – your comments mean so much to me! **


	2. Everything is Not Alright

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Hello, everyone! Thank you, as always, for your support and reviews. They never fail to make me smile. I've been battling writer's block for well over a month now and this has managed to escape but I'm not sure I like it. It's uber-fluffy, so be warned. I still have plans to make this much longer but when that happens … who knows? Anyways, enjoy this chapter! **

Aaron hoped that Jack would sleep through the night but he was disappointed. The young boy woke his father by shaking his shoulder around midnight. Hotch let Jack crawl into bed next to him and that arrangement lasted approximately an hour before Jack was rushed to the bathroom. They repeated this cycle – an hour in bed, an hour in the bathroom – several times and when Aaron's alarm went off, he felt like he had gotten no sleep.

"Do I have to go to school, Daddy?" Jack asked miserably as Aaron wiped his face with a cloth. Aaron shook his head.

"No, bud."

"Are you going to work?"

"No, I'm staying here with you."

Jack sighed and Aaron patted him on the shoulder.

"You'll feel better soon, I promise."

Jack sighed again and looked up at his father.

"I feel bad," he said and Aaron tilted his head.

"Why do you feel bad?" He wasn't sure if his son was talking physically or emotionally.

"I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Why would I get in trouble, Jack?"

"Allie's daddy didn't go to work for a whole week and he got into trouble. All he does is sit at home now. Allie says he's sad all the time. I don't want that to happen to you."

"Is Allie someone in your class?"

Jack nodded.

"Trust me, buddy," Aaron said, smiling. "Everyone wants me to stay home and take care of you today. I won't get into trouble."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Jack's face relaxed slightly but Aaron could tell his son was still worried.

"Hey, Jack, why don't we talk to Mom? Would you like that?"

Jack nodded.

"One second," Hotch said, leaving and returning with a lighter. He lit the white candle that sat on Jack's bedside table and handed the boy the glass jar.

"What do you want to say to Mom?" Aaron asked, carefully watching Jack's face. Underneath all the evidence of sickness was intense sadness.

"I miss you," Jack whispered. "I wish you were here, then Daddy could go to work and you could take care of me."

"How does Mom take care of you, Jack?"

"She reads me stories and snuggles with me while watching Franklin and Berenstain Bears."

A tear ran down Jack's face.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Hotch murmured, rubbing Jack's arm. "I know I'm not Mom but we can still do those things. Mom would want us to do them, especially if they help you feel better."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Jack sighed, his eyes locked on the flickering candle.

"I love you," he whispered, blowing the flame out. He turned to his father, who took the cup and pulled Jack into a hug.

"So, what will it be?" Aaron asked. "Books or TV?"

"Can I just go to sleep?"

"Of course. I'll be right down the hall if you need me."

Aaron tucked the blankets around his son, moved the waste bin closer just in case, and kissed Jack's forehead. He paused in the doorway and saw Jack staring at the framed photo of him and Haley that was on his bedside table. With a solemn face Hotch retreated to his bedroom.

* * *

><p>The team gathered in the conference room early that morning.<p>

"Hey, J.J.," Garcia said, coming in with an armful of files. "Any word from Hotch?"

The blonde shook her head.

"No," she said, glancing at Rossi. "Have you heard from him?"

The older agent checked his phone.

"No messages," he answered. "Is there a case?"

Garcia nodded.

"Triple murder in New Mexico. It's the third one in twelve days."

"That's one heck of a streak," Prentiss commented, glancing at her tablet. Garcia turned to J.J.

"What do we do about Hotch?"

"I'll call him," Rossi said and J.J. nodded agreement, relieved she didn't have to be the one to broach the subject. She knew how difficult it was to leave a sick child behind and Hotch's situation was even more difficult given Jessica's absence.

Rossi went into his office, pulling out his phone.

"Hi, Dave," Hotch's exhaustion carried through the phone line and Rossi frowned.

"Are you sure it's not you with the stomach flu?" he greeted his friend. "You sound terrible."

Aaron wiped his eyes, grateful that Dave couldn't comment on how he looked.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Or I will be once Jack is better."

"How is he?"

"Not worse but certainly not better. I'm going to call the pediatrician as soon as their office opens."

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm tired. We've been up most of the night."

Rossi raised an eyebrow.

"That wasn't exactly what I was asking, Aaron."

Aaron knew there was very little point in hiding his feelings.

"I've been better," he replied. "Nothing I'm doing helps and Jack wants Haley."

"I'm sure you're doing everything you can." Rossi assured his friend. "I know it may not seem like it but Jack doesn't need you to be Haley; he needs you to be his dad."

Aaron sighed, glancing at the clock.

"It's awfully early for a social call," he said, switching the subject. "What's going on? Is there a case?"

"There is …" Rossi's voice trailed off. "But I think you'd better sit this one out. Jack needs you more than we do."

"Where is it?"

"New Mexico. Triple murder."

Aaron raised an eyebrow.

"Any patterns in victimology?"

"I'm not saying anything more, Hotch." Rossi said firmly. "You are not coming; you need to be with Jack."

Aaron smiled slightly.

"I wasn't going to suggest I come," he said.

"Then why did you ask?" Rossi shot back. "I know you, Aaron. Trust me, you'll be of more use to your son."

"I'm not sure if I should be offended by that."

"You shouldn't be," Rossi replied. "We'll sort out New Mexico with or without you but you're the only one who can help Jack."

Hotch smiled.

"Thanks, Dave."

"Don't mention it."

"You know how to reach me if you need to."

"We won't," Rossi replied. "But Garcia is here if you need anything. Tell Jack we all hope he's feeling better."

"I will. Have a safe flight."

Rossi hung up the phone and returned to the conference room.

"How's Jack?" Garcia asked.

"Same as yesterday," the agent reported. "Hotch is going to call the doctor this morning which means he won't be joining us."

"In that case," Morgan said, assuming command. "Baby Girl, what do we have?"

* * *

><p>Hotchner tossed his phone onto the bed beside him and rubbed his eyes again before walking down the hall. Jack wasn't asleep but rather staring blankly past the photograph. Aaron sat on the edge of the bed.<p>

"Hey, bud," he said, smiling. Jack managed a weak smile back.

"How's the stomach?"

Jack shrugged.

"Do you want some breakfast? I can make you a smoothie like Miss Garcia made."

Jack shook his head.

"Maybe later?"

Jack nodded and sighed.

"Alright," Aaron agreed. "I just got off the phone with Uncle Dave."

"Are you going away?"

"No," Hotch said. "I'm staying right here with you."

"And you won't get in trouble?"

"Not a bit," Aaron replied. "Uncle Dave made me promise I would stay with you instead of going to work."

"Really?"

"Yep." Hotch nodded. "And he said to tell you that the entire team hopes you feel better."

"Oh."

Jack sighed again and Aaron frowned slightly.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"No."

"What about a book?"

"No."

Hotch sighed.

"What do you want to do?"

"Can you tell me a story about Mommy?" Jack requested and Aaron smiled. He went to the other side of the bed and lay down, Jack curling up next to him.

"Alright," Hotch began. Before he could finish the story of how he and Haley met, Jack was fast asleep.

* * *

><p>By afternoon, Aaron could tell Jack was getting uncomfortable and Hotch had just gotten off the phone with the pediatrician.<p>

"Jack?" he asked, going down the hall. "We're going to take a little trip," he said, opening a dresser drawer for a clean shirt.

"Where?" Jack asked sleepily.

"The doctor's."

"I don't wanna."

Hotch turned around, a fresh t-shirt in his hand, and raised an eyebrow.

"The doctor will help you feel better."

"I don't wanna go."

"Why not?"

"Doctors are stupid."

"Jack," Hotch warned.

"I don't wanna go!"

Before Hotch could do anything, Jack ran out of the room and locked himself in the bathroom. Aaron followed, tried the knob, and sighed.

"Jack," he said firmly. "Open the door."

"Only if you promise I don't have to go."

"I can't promise you that," Aaron replied. "The doctor is just going to make sure that everything is alright."

"Everything is not alright." Jack answered and his father frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked, pressing his ear against the door.

"It's not alright," Jack mumbled, his voice clearly weaker than a moment earlier. Aaron heard what he thought were sobs.

"Jack?" Hotch asked in a softer voice. "Jack, can you please open the door for me?"

"I don't want to go." Jack repeated.

"Jack, please open the door and we can talk about this."

"I don't want to go!"

Aaron felt himself getting frustrated, which was slightly absurd. He successfully negotiated with socio and psychopaths and yet he couldn't get his five-year-old son to open the door. The one difference was that unlike his job, Hotch literally had the key to this situation. Leaving the bathroom door, Hotch went to the kitchen and pulled open the second drawer down. He found the small bathroom key in a dish of rubber bands, thumbtacks, and twist-ties and returned to the door. He put the key in the lock and the door swung open to reveal Jack dry heaving, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

"Jack," Hotch murmured, kneeling next to his son and pulling him to his chest once he was done vomiting.

"I don't want to go." Jack whimpered, exhausted by the effort. Aaron reached over to the sink and got the still-damp cloth, using it to wipe Jack's face. He carried his son back to his room and sat on the bed with him.

"It's alright, Jack. I'm not angry," Aaron began. "But I want to know why you don't want to go to the doctor. You've been there before and it's never been a problem."

"I don't need to." Jack mumbled, not making eye contact with his father.

"Yes, you do. You're sick. Doctors are there to make us better when we're sick, you know that."

Jack didn't say anything.

"You said that everything is not alright. What did you mean by that?"

Jack sighed.

"It's not alright," he said. "Mommy never made me go to the doctor."

"Oh, I see," Aaron replied. "You don't want to go to the doctor because Mom knew how to make it better without the doctor's help. And now that Mom's not here, everything's not alright. Is that it?"

Jack nodded miserably and Aaron sighed.

"Jack," he said. "If Mom were here, I think she'd want you go to the doctor."

"How do you know?"

Aaron smiled.

"Mom would want you to go because she'd be worried about, just like I am. She'd want to make sure everything was okay inside your tummy and doctors can do that. You've never been this sick before, Jack, and we need to make sure it's just the flu and not something more serious."

Jack finally looked up at his father.

"My tummy hurts."

"I know it does, buddy, but the doctor can tell us the best way to help your tummy. What do you say?"

Jack nodded.

"Okay."

Aaron smiled and kissed the still-too-warm forehead.

"That's my brave boy," he said. "Mom would be proud of you, Jack. Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready to go."

* * *

><p>An hour later, Jack was sitting on Hotch's lap in the doctor's office. A nurse pulled the thermometer from his mouth, glanced at the reading, and noted it in the computer.<p>

"The doctor will be with you shortly," she said, leaving the room. Jack leaned against Aaron's chest.

"Is your tummy alright?"

There had been an incident on the drive over, one which would result in an interior cleaning of the car later on. Jack nodded but his eyes were closed. Luckily, the doctor appeared a few moments later. He gently examined Jack before talking with Aaron.

"You have nothing to be overly concerned about," he said, smiling.

"So it is just the flu?"

The doctor nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Though it appears to be a rather aggressive strain."

"Is there anything we can do to make Jack more comfortable?"

The doctor shook his head.

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "The usual things – bed rest, fluids, medicine – are the key to conquering this."

He glanced at Jack, smiling. Jack did not smile back.

"Can you do something for me, Jack?" the doctor asked and Jack shrugged. "I need you to eat as much as you can right now. I know your tummy hurts but food is how our bodies get energy to fight off germs. Do you think you can do that?"

Jack didn't respond and the doctor glanced at Aaron.

"I'll keep encouraging it," he told the doctor. "Is there any indication how long the flu will hold on? When can I send him back to school?"

"It varies, of course," the doctor replied. "But another two days or so and I think Jack will begin to feel better but it could take almost a week for him to be back to his normal self. As for school, he can go back after his temperature is normal for twenty-four hours."

"Thank you, Doctor." Hotch said.

"Of course." The doctor said, smiling at Jack. "I hope you feel better, Jack."

"Say thank you, Jack."

"Thanks." Jack's voice was hardly audible and Aaron sensed his son was falling asleep. The doctor nodded at Aaron again before leaving the room.

"Good job, buddy," Hotch said, kissing Jack's forehead. "Come on, let's go home."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Jack's fever had gone up and he was sleeping restlessly. Aaron leaned against the door frame, frowning as he watched. Soup and crackers hadn't gone well but at least Jack had eaten something. With a deep sigh, he left the bedroom and went to the kitchen. He glanced at his phone, noting Dave had tried to call him earlier.<p>

"Aaron," Dave greeted cheerfully when Hotch dialled his friend. "How's Jack? What did the doctor say?"

"It's the flu," Hotch replied. "But it's one of those strains that's like the flu on steroids."

"Poor Jack. How's he feeling?"

"Terrible. His fever spiked about an hour ago. Whenever he's not throwing up, he's sleeping."

"Yikes."

"Yeah," Aaron said with a thin smile. "That about sums it up. How's the case going?"

"It's progressing."

"Progressing as in more bodies?"

"Unfortunately."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No." Rossi answered firmly.

"Dave, please. I'm going crazy here, I need to do something."

"Sleep. You sound exhausted."

"I can't sleep. Jack needs me."

Rossi sighed.

"Trust me, Aaron. Working on a case is not the thing you need right now."

"Then what is?"

Aaron heard commotion in the background.

"I don't know but I'll call you back."

The line went dead before Hotch could reply.

* * *

><p>The commotion at the precinct turned out to be nothing more than a rowdy DUI, though his timing was impeccable as far as Rossi was concerned.<p>

"Fount of knowledge, how may I help you?"

"Garcia," Rossi said into the phone. "I have a favour to ask."

"Shoot."

"I just got off the phone with Hotch,"

"How's Jack?" Garcia interrupted.

"Not well," Rossi answered. "Neither of them are."

"Hotch isn't sick, is he?"

"No, but he's exhausted. Jack keeps waking up and at this rate, Hotch is going to be flat on his back before long."

"What do you want me to do, Sir?"

"Call Kevin and see if he can come to the office for a few hours. If he can,"

"I'll head over straightaway," Garcia replied. "Penelope Garcia's baby-sitting service is at your service."

"Thanks, Garcia. And listen, don't let Hotch talk you out of this. Tell him to take it up with me."

"Got it."

* * *

><p>An hour later, Hotch was woken by a knock at the door. Frowning, he stumbled off the couch, checking his watch. He peered through the peep-hole and sighed.<p>

"Garcia, what are you doing here?" he asked, letting the lab tech in. "You need to be working the case."

"Kevin is at the office," Garcia replied. "And, forgive me for saying this, Sir, but you look awful."

Hotch raised an eyebrow but he knew it was true. He likely had bags under his eyes and he hadn't shaved today.

"What are you doing here?" he asked again, noting Penelope was sporting an overnight bag. "Why do you have your go-bag?"

"Because," Garcia replied, taking of her coat. "I am going to take care of Jack tonight so you can get some sleep."

"That's not necessary."

"I beg to differ."

"Garcia."

"Sir."

Aaron sighed.

"Rossi put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Yes," Garcia replied. "And he said I shouldn't let you bully me out of it and if you have any problems to take it up with him."

Jack's voice carried down the hall. Hotch, still groggy from his nap, wasn't quick enough and Garcia reached the bedroom first. Jack was clutching his waste basket.

"It's alright, Jack," Garcia said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. She took the bin away once Jack was done. "Well, I bet that was no fun."

Jack shook his head.

"Hey, Jack," Garcia said, smiling at him. "Would it be okay I took care of you tonight so your daddy can get some sleep? We don't want him to get sick, too."

Jack glanced at Aaron, who was in the doorway, and then back at Garcia. He nodded and Penelope looked pointedly at her boss.

"You heard him," she said. "Off to bed with you."

"Come and get me if you need anything," Hotch said with a sigh. "Goodnight, Jack."

"'Night, Daddy."

Hotch went to his bedroom and dialled Rossi again.

"You sent Garcia to take care of my son?"

"Yes," Rossi replied.

"Why? I'm capable of taking care of him when he's sick."

"I didn't say you weren't." Rossi replied. "But you're wearing yourself out. Garcia was more than happy to do it and Kevin is at the office. There's no reason why we couldn't help you."

Hotch sighed.

"Fine," he said. "I suppose I'll go to sleep, since everyone is convinced I need to."

"You do. Goodnight, Aaron."

"'Night, Dave."

**As I said, uber-fluffy. But cute nonetheless. The one thing that really bothers me is not knowing what Jack would call the members of the BAU. We know he calls Rossi "Uncle Dave" but it didn't sound right to have any of the others as aunt/uncle. Anyone have an opinion/insight?**

**Please review =) **


	3. Coincidence?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. **

**Alright, this is officially going somewhere! I had a moment of brilliance while eating lunch and all those pieces I mentioned … yeah, they've come together beautifully. Thank you, as always, for your reads and reviews and I hope you enjoy the chapter =) **

Much to his surprise, Hotch slept till his alarm rang the next morning. He hadn't anticipated being able to rest comfortably given he was used to listening for Jack. The SSA washed up and dressed before leaving his bedroom. The strong smell of coffee wafted down the hallway from the kitchen but he went to Jack's room first. The door was slightly ajar and the light off but Hotch could make out his son sleeping peacefully.

"Garcia?" he asked, continuing down the hall to the kitchen. Garcia looked up from a bowl of oatmeal and smiled.

"Good morning, Sir," she said. "How did you sleep?"

"Really well," Hotch replied, pouring himself coffee. "How's Jack?"

"Much better. The fever broke around three a.m. and after throwing up at four, he fell asleep. Did you check on him?"

Aaron nodded, sitting across from the lab tech.

"He's still sleeping."

"Good," Garcia said. "Hopefully when he wakes up, I can get him to eat something again."

"Again? Did he eat after I went to bed?"

"Yes," Penelope replied, standing. "He managed some dry toast. Can I get you some oatmeal, Sir?"

"You don't need to, Garcia."

"I insist."

Garcia began preparing another bowl of oatmeal.

"There you are, Sir. A hot and hearty breakfast."

"Thanks. Have you been up all night?"

Garcia nodded, sitting down again.

"You should head home, then." Aaron told her. "Get some sleep yourself."

"Oh, I'm fine. All-night gaming sessions have been good training for this job, plus we pull so many all-nighters with cases that I'm used to it."

Hotch smiled.

"That may be," he said. "But don't feel you need to stay here. I've got things under control."

"I know you do, Sir. Jack was telling me about how you convinced him to go to the doctor, and about the story you told him with Haley."

A strange sensation went through Aaron. He wasn't used to his team knowing personal things about his and Jack's relationship. It wasn't that he hid them, he just didn't openly share. To hear his lab tech talk about Haley felt foreign.

"He misses her," Aaron said. "Especially now. I've never had to fill this role for him."

"I know," Garcia said with a gentle smile. "But you're doing wonderfully, Sir. Jack said he felt better when you were talking with him about Haley."

"Really?"

Garcia nodded and Aaron smiled.

"Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome."

From the side pocket of her bag came a vibrating text-alert. Garcia retrieved the phone and frowned as she read the text.

"Everything alright?" Hotch asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, fine."

Aaron raised an eyebrow.

"Garcia."

"It's nothing," Garcia said, pocketing the device and smiling again. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I don't mind."

"It's fine," Hotch said. "But thank you."

Garcia began gathering her bags. Hotch watched her, knowing something in the text message had upset her but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he stood and handed Garcia her book, which she'd been reading as she ate.

"Thanks," Garcia stuck the book in her handbag. "Call me if you need anything else," she added.

"Thank you for everything," he said, following her to the door. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

"I'm sure." Garcia replied. "Have a good day, Sir."

"You, too."

Hotch closed the door after Garcia left, puzzled. Abandoning his breakfast, Hotch found his own phone and checked for messages. There weren't any so he called J.J.

"Hotch," she greeted. "How are you?"

"Fine," Hotch answered. "Did you just text Garcia?"

"I didn't," J.J. answered.

"Did anyone on the team?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"She was here last night taking care of Jack but she just got a text and left suddenly."

"Did she say anything was wrong?"

"She said it was nothing but she was lying."

"I don't know," J.J. replied. "Do you want me to call her?"

"Yeah, make sure she's alright."

There was a beep on the line and J.J. glanced at her phone.

"I've got another call coming in," she said. "But I'll get in touch with Garcia."

"Thanks."

Hotch ended the call and returned to the table, sipping his coffee. He was glad Jack was finally getting some sleep and it made him happy - happier than he had let on with Garcia - that Jack felt his dad was doing a good job.

* * *

><p>"Will?" J.J. answered the incoming call.<p>

"Hey, darling," Will answered in his southern drawl.

"Is everything alright?" J.J. immediately asked. Will didn't call while they were on a case unless something was wrong and the sigh that followed did nothing to ease J.J.'s worrying.

"Henry's sick."

"Sick with what?"

"I don't know. Flu, I guess. He's got a temperature of a hundred and two."

"Did you call the doctor?"

"Yeah, he said to give it a day and call back tomorrow if he still had a fever."

"Has he eaten anything?"

"Nothing. He's thrown up, though."

J.J. rubbed her forehead.

"You're supposed to have meetings all day, aren't you?"

"I am," Will replied. "I didn't want to worry you so I texted Penelope, asking what I should do. She said that she'd take care of Henry today."

J.J. sank into a chair, understanding now why Garcia had left Hotch's place so quickly.

"The case isn't going well," she said. "I don't know when I'll be home."

"It's alright, love. After today, my schedule is clear so I can stay with him."

"Garcia said she didn't mind?"

"No, she said it was no trouble at all, which surprised me. Why isn't she working the case?"

"Jack Hotchner is also down with the flu," J.J. explained. "Garcia was there last night to give Aaron a hand with him. Kevin is working the case with us."

"Do you think Henry got sick from Jack?"

"Maybe," J.J. answered. "I suppose Hotch and I could have spread the germs."

"Well, it doesn't matter how he got it. I'm sure he'll be fine."

J.J. heard the doorbell in the background.

"Oh, that must be Garcia. I'll call you later, J.J. Love you."

"Love you, too." J.J. said, ending the call. She immediately called Hotch back.

"Hotchner."

"It's me," J.J. said. "I know where Garcia went off to so quickly."

"Where?"

"My place. Apparently Henry's caught the flu as well and Will has meetings all day. She volunteered to take care of him today."

"That's not what I was expecting to hear," Hotch replied. "It's a bit strange, isn't it?"

"What? Both of our sons getting the flu in the same week?"

"Yeah."

"Probably not as strange as we'd like to think. Kids are susceptible to viruses more than adults are and you and I probably acted as carriers between them."

"I suppose," Hotch said.

"I'll talk to Garcia but I'm sure Henry will be fine. Jack, too," she added.

"I'm sure, too."

"I'll check in later."

"Alright. Talk to you then."

Hotch ended the call, feeling uneasy. It seemed like too big of a coincidence that Henry had the flu as well but J.J. had a valid point. Kids picked up illnesses like dogs picked up scents. Jack had probably gotten sick from school and before Hotch knew his son was contagious, he spread the germs at work. J.J. likely had a strong enough immune system to combat it but when she went home, Henry got it from her. Trying to convince himself it was just part of nature, Hotch went down the hall to check on Jack. He could immediately tell that the fever had returned.

"Jack?" he whispered, feeling the little boy's head. It was hot and dry. Jack didn't wake up and Hotch retrieved a cloth from the bathroom and began sponging the small face.

* * *

><p>J.J. was sitting in the conference room, deep in thought, when Prentiss came in.<p>

"Everything alright?" she asked, opening a protein bar. J.J. looked up.

"I just got off the phone with Will," she said. "Henry's got the flu."

"Him, too?"

"Yeah," J.J. answered. "It makes sense, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Henry probably got sick from Jack through Hotch and I … that makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Emily nodded. "You know what kids are like; they get sick at the drop of a hat."

J.J. nodded but didn't look convinced.

"Garcia is staying with him," she informed her friend. "Will has to be away all day."

"That's nice of her. How is Jack? Did you talk to Hotch?"

"Yeah," J.J. answered. "But I didn't actually ask how Jack was. He and I were talking about how Henry got sick."

"Do you think it's more than a coincidence?"

J.J. sighed.

"I don't know."

* * *

><p>Will had left for his meetings almost as soon as Garcia had arrived. He showed her where the medicine was, thanked her, and left. Garcia, who was beginning to feel tired and slightly overwhelmed, went to Henry's room.<p>

"Hi, Henry," she said with a smile and the three-year-old waved listlessly. "Your daddy tells me your tummy hurts."

Henry nodded.

"Well," Garcia said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I know just the thing for an upset tummy."

"What?"

"A special Penelope-Garcia-Super-Duper-Awesome-Make-You-Feel-Better-Smoothie. How does that sound?"

Henry shrugged and Garcia sighed.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart," she said, brushing his blonde hair back. "Do you think you can at least try it?"

Henry nodded.

"That's my boy," Garcia said, kissing Henry. "Do you want to stay in bed or lounge on the couch?"

"Couch."

"Okay."

Garcia lifted Henry out of bed and settled him of the couch, tucking the blanket around him and handing him the remote.

"Find something to watch," she said. "And I'll start on that smoothie."

* * *

><p>It was a rough day for Jack and Henry.<p>

"I don't understand," Hotch said to Rossi later that evening. "It's like Jack is getting worse."

"What do you mean?"

"The doctor said it might take a few days for him to feel better but his fever is going up and he keeps vomiting even though there's nothing there tothrow up."

Rossi frowned.

"Is he sleeping?"

"Not really," Hotch replied. "He's camped out in the bathroom, afraid to go back to bed."

"And I bet he hasn't been eating, either?"

"We've managed a few popsicles and about half a water bottle."

"What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to take him to the ER?"

"I don't know. I've thought about it but the doctor said it was just the flu."

"It's your decision," Rossi said. "But I'm sure you're thinking about how dehydrated he's getting between the fever and the dry heaving."

"I am," Hotch said with a sigh. "But I was hoping you could tell me what to do."

"Have you asked Jack what he wants to do?"

"No, I didn't want to scare him."

"Daddy!" Jack's voice carried down the hall and Aaron instantly knew something was wrong.

"Call me back." Rossi said immediately, clearly having heard Jack's cry. Aaron dropped his phone on the table and ran down the hall.

"What's wrong, Jack?"

He didn't need to ask. A thin trail of blood was running down Jack's chin.

"It's alright," Hotch said, trying to downplay his reaction. He knelt next to Jack and wiped the blood away with a Kleenex.

"Am I going to die?"

"No, buddy," Aaron replied. "Will you be alright for a minute?"

Jack nodded and Hotch left the bathroom, picking up his phone again.

"Is everything alright?" Rossi answered on the first ring.

"No," Hotch replied. "He's vomiting blood. I'm going to take him to the ER."

"I think that's a wise decision."

Hotch uttered a shaky sigh.

"Are you alright, Aaron?"

"I'm scared, Dave. Something is happening to Jack and I don't know what."

"That why we have doctors. They'll figure out what's going on."

Hotch sighed again.

"Can I talk to Jack?" Dave asked.

"Sure," Aaron replied, walking down the hallway. "Jack? Uncle Dave wants to talk to you."

Aaron gave Jack the phone and left to gather what he'd need to take to the hospital.

"How are you doing, Jack?"

"What's going to happen to me, Uncle Dave?"

"Your daddy is going to take you to the doctor again." Dave said. "Can you do something for me, Jack?"

"Uh-huh."

"Can you put on your brave face for your daddy?"

"Is he scared?"

"A little bit," Dave answered. "And that's okay but seeing how brave you are will help him be brave, too."

"Can I be scared?"

"Of course you can," Dave answered. "Do you remember what I told you about bravery?"

"That it's okay to be scared but you gotta keep moving forward."

"Right." Dave said, smiling. "So do you think you can wear your brave face?"

"Yes."

"Good job," Dave said. "I'm proud of you, Jack."

"Are you going to be home soon?"

"Soon," Dave replied. "And I promise I'll come see you as soon as I am. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too."

"Jack? Is Uncle Dave still on the phone?" Hotch asked, coming back into the bathroom. Jack nodded and handed the phone back to his dad.

"Dave?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Keep us posted, alright?"

"I will."

Aaron ended the call and picked Jack up.

"We're going to the hospital, aren't we?"

"Yes," Aaron said, carrying Jack towards the living room. "Is that okay?"

"Yes." Jack said, remembering what Uncle Dave had told him. Aaron smiled and kissed Jack's cheek.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go then."

* * *

><p>"How is he?" J.J. asked Garcia.<p>

"Sleeping," Garcia replied, yawning.

"How's the fever?"

"Still at one-oh-two but he hasn't thrown up in a few hours."

"That's good, I suppose," J.J. replied, glancing at her watch. "Will should be home soon."

"Okay," Garcia said, yawning again. J.J. smiled.

"You must be exhausted. When did you last get any sleep?"

"What day is it?" Garcia asked.

"Wednesday."

"Oh. Then … Monday, I think. I don't know."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Garcia said. "Just tired."

"Thank you, again, for looking after Henry."

"Don't mention it," Garcia said. "After all, what are fairy-godmothers for?"

J.J. laughed but stopped when Rossi come into the room, looking concerned.

"I'll call you back in a minute, Garcia," she said, hanging up. "Rossi, what's wrong?"

"Hotch is taking Jack to the hospital."

"What?"

"He's vomiting blood; they're on their way to the ER now."

"What happened?"

Rossi shrugged.

"Hotch just said he kept getting worse. His temp went up and he can't keep anything down."

"That's concerning. Is Hotch alright?"

"He's worried, to say the least. He's going to call as soon as he knows anything."

J.J. sighed.

"I wish we were there, for both Jack and Henry."

"So do I," Rossi said. "But we're needed here. The best we can do is work extra-hard to solve the case and then we can go home."

"Yeah, just let me call Garcia back and I'll be right in."

Rossi nodded and proceeded to the conference room and J.J. dialled the lab tech again.

"Everything alright, buttercup?" Garcia asked.

"No," J.J. said. "Hotch is taking Jack to the ER."

"What happened?"

"He's vomiting blood."

"Oh," Garcia was speechless. "I … I have get to the hospital. As soon as Will gets home, that is."

J.J. looked at her watch again.

"It should be any minute. Let us know how he is, alright?"

"Of course. Bye, J.J."

Garcia was pacing when Will came home. She rushed to explain how Henry was and what had happened before heading to the hospital.

"Excuse me," she said to the nurse at the desk.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Jack Hotchner. He was brought in by his father."

"Are you family?"

"No, but - "

"I'm sorry, but only immediate family is allowed to visit in the emergency department."

The nurse looked back at her computer screen, unaware she had said the wrong thing to a tired and overprotective Garcia.

"Excuse me," she said again and the nurse looked up, annoyed. "But I need to see him."

"I told you, only immediate family - "

"That's not acceptable!" Garcia exclaimed, pulling out her FBI badge. "That little boy's mother is dead and I'm the closet thing he has to family besides his father. I work for the FBI and have the ability to hack into your computer system and put notes on your files for not cooperating with the federal government. So," she said, resuming her sweet voice. "I need to see Jack Hotncher."

The nurse looked slightly intimated but nodded.

"This way," she said.

"Thank you."

The nurse led Garcia through a maze of curtain-created hallways, stopping outside of one and pushing the curtain open slightly.

"Mr. Hotchner, there's a woman from the FBI here to see you."

The nurse moved the curtain out of the way and Garcia stepped forward.

"Garcia, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, but J.J. called me and I came as soon as Will got home."

"Would you like me to call security?" the nurse asked and Aaron shook his head.

"No, it's fine."

The nurse nodded and left and Aaron raised an eyebrow at the lab tech.

"She wasn't going to let me in," Garcia said with a shrug and Hotch shook his head but there was a small smile on his face. Garcia smiled back and turned to Jack.

"How are you feeling, Jack?"

"Okay." Jack mumbled, his eyes barely open.

"They gave him a sedative," Hotch replied. "And they're hydrating him through the IV while we wait for blood work to come back."

Garcia nodded.

"Do you mind if I wait with you?"

"Of course. How's Henry?"

Garcia sank into a chair opposite Hotch's.

"About the same as Jack was the first night Morgan and I came."

Hotch sighed, watching Jack's breathing.

"It's terrifying," he said absently. "Watching your child be so sick and not being able to do anything about it."

"They'll be fine, Sir. Both of them."

Hotch glanced at Garcia.

"I want to believe you," he said. "And I know I should but until I know what's wrong with him, I'm going to worry."

Garcia didn't have an answer for that and the two of them lapsed into silence, watching Jack sleep.

**Your reviews are very appreciated, thanks! **


	4. Diagnosis

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Hi, everyone! I hope you're doing alright. I'm so excited about this story now that I have a plan. Thank you, as always, for your generous and kind reviews. **

"Garcia," Hotch shook the lab tech's shoulder and the young woman jumped.

"I'm awake, I promise I'm awake."

She glanced up at Hotch, whose eyebrow was arched but he was smiling.

"How's Jack?" Garcia asked, glancing at the sleeping boy. "What time is it?"

"It's almost midnight," Hotch answered. "You just missed the doctor."

"Why didn't you wake me? What did he say?"

"Because you're exhausted," Aaron replied. "And they're admitting Jack."

"Oh no," Garcia exclaimed. "What's wrong with him, do they know?"

"They're not entirely sure yet but they think it's some sort of avian or swine flu. They're doing more tests."

"Avian or swine flu?" Garcia repeated, looking at Jack. "But … but … _how_?"

"They don't know yet," Hotch said. "Hence the tests."

Garcia didn't take her eyes off Jack, who looked far too small for the hospital bed.

"Penelope. Go home and get some sleep."

"No, Sir, I want to stay with him."

"He's sedated. He won't be waking up till morning and you've been taking care of sick kids for almost twenty-four hours. You told me I needed to eat because I'd been exposed to Jack all day and the same is true for you. Go home and go to bed."

"Are you going to stay with him?"

"Of course." Hotch replied. "And I promise I'll call if anything changes."

Garcia stood slowly and went to Jack's side. She kissed his forehead and smiled at him before facing Hotch again.

"Promise?"

"I promise. Goodnight, Garcia."

"Goodnight, Sir."

Penelope left the hospital and drove home, falling into bed without changing or taking off her makeup. She pulled her sleep mask on and put earbuds in to channel soothing music. She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

><p>After Garcia left, Hotch watched two orderlies move Jack up to the children's ward and into a private room.<p>

"There's a quarantine sign," he said to the nurse in the room. "Is Jack contagious?"

"It's a precaution at this point," the nurse replied. "Until we know what sort of flu Jack has, we don't want to expose any other patients to him."

"May I stay?"

"Of course," the nurse replied. "You've already been exposed so there's no reason to keep you away. I'm sure Jack will want his dad, especially when he wakes up."

"Thank you." Hotch said, sinking into the visitor's chair. The nurse and orderlies left and Hotch sighed. The sickness that had made him so uncomfortable was no longer something some soup and a few days in bed could cure; the doctors didn't know what was making his son so sick and that was a terrifying notion. When the people who were supposed to be experts in the field were at a loss, Hotch knew the outcome was rarely good.

Aaron forced his eyes closed and took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts under control. Jack was going to be fine; the doctors weren't out of options, they just needed more tests. It would be fine.

Once he felt a little more composed, Aaron glanced at the closed door before slipping his shoes off. He got onto the bed and pulled Jack towards him, falling asleep holding his son.

* * *

><p>"Let me see him."<p>

"I'm sorry but the room is under quarantine. I can't let you in there, you'll be exposed."

"Like hell you can't."

Aaron forced his eyes open, sure he was dreaming. The door opened and a triumphant Rossi strode in.

"Dave," Hotch said, sitting up and glancing at his watch. "What are you doing here? It's six-thirty. What about the case?"

"Taken care of," Rossi replied. "And we came straight home. How is he?"

Hotch glanced at Jack, who was still sleeping. The IV was dripping steadily into his arm and he appeared to be resting comfortably.

"Sedated at the moment," Hotch replied, feeling Jack's forehead. Despite the constant hydration, it was warmer than ever.

"What do the doctors think?"

"They're running tests but they think it's some sort of avian or swine flu."

"How would Jack get that?"

"I don't know. How did you get in here? The room's under quarantine."

"I promised Jack I'd visit him as soon as I got home. A sign on a door was not going to make me break my promise."

Hotch smiled.

"Are we allowed to leave? I could sure use a cup of coffee."

"It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission," Rossi replied, nodding towards the door. "You go, I'll stay here in case he wakes up."

"Thanks."

Aaron got of the bed and left the room, glancing over his shoulder as he entered the hallway - even better than asking for forgiveness was not getting caught in the first place. Rossi sank into the visitor's chair and watched Jack's chest rise and fall. He seemed to be aware that someone had left.

"Daddy?" he mumbled.

"Shh," Rossi soothed. "Your dad just went for some coffee."

Jack's eyes opened.

"Uncle Dave," he said and Rossi smiled.

"Hey, kiddo," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Sick." Jack mumbled, turning a wicked shade of green. Luckily, Rossi had quick reflexes and spared the cleaning staff a trip to the room.

"It's alright," he said, rubbing Jack's back as the boy coughed. "You're fine."

He noticed more blood in the vomit but didn't say anything.

"Do you want some water?"

Jack nodded and Rossi helped him sip from the cup.

"Better?"

"I guess." Jack fell onto his pillows, exhausted. Rossi noticed he'd broken out in sweat.

"Are you hot?"

"No."

Rossi sat back in the chair.

"Your dad told me how brave you were about coming to the hospital last night. I'm proud of you, Jack."

Jack smiled half-heartedly but turned his head when the door opened again. Aaron appeared with two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to Dave.

"Jack," he said, setting his coffee down on the table. "How do you feel?"

"I threw up." Jack informed his father, who nodded.

"I see that. I bumped into one of the doctors downstairs, he's going to come and take a look at you soon."

"Okay."

Jack didn't seem to have the energy to engage in conversation and began to doze almost immediately. Aaron looked at Dave.

"Do you know how Henry is?"

"J.J. talked to Will before we took off," he replied. "It didn't sound good."

Hotch sighed, studying his son.

"Do you think there's something suspicious about this?"

"I don't see how there can be," Rossi replied. "There's no way to prove they got sick through you and J.J. – she told me about your conversation – and I'm sure at least a dozen other kids came down with the flu in the past few days, too."

Aaron didn't say anything and the room was quiet again until the doctor appeared. He was wearing a yellow paper gown over his white coat, a surgeon's mask covered his nose and mouth, and he was wearing. He didn't question how Rossi got in the room as Aaron introduced them.

"Do you have the test results back?" he asked and the doctor nodded.

"We do," he replied. "Jack appears to have a strain of H5N1, or in common tongue, the avian bird flu."

"I didn't think that strain could be communicated through humans," Rossi said and the doctor nodded.

"It normally can't," he replied. "Which means Jack came into contact it with it another way."

The doctor looked at Hotch.

"Has Jack been exposed to any livestock recently? A petting zoo or a farm?"

Hotch shook his head.

"No, not that I can think of. Is there no other way he could contract it?"

"We'll run some more detailed tests," the doctor replied. "If this is a new strain of the flu, it's possible he contracted it through human contact."

"Will he be alright?"

"The morbidity of avian flu is higher than that of a normal flu strain," the doctor admitted. "But we're doing everything we can for him. Jack is young and healthy and we caught this in plenty of time. He should be fine."

"Is he still in quarantine?"

The doctor nodded.

"Until we know more, it's the best thing for him."

"What about us? We've been exposed."

"I'll need to ask you to remain here until we have more answers." He glanced at the coffee on the table. "We've been tracking the avian flu and it rarely mutates significantly within such a short period of time so I don't think you're in any danger. But, as I said, until we know it's the best for all involved to impose quarantine. From now on, anyone coming into the room will be gowned, masked, and gloved. I'll have a nurse come in shortly to replace the IV and bring Jack some breakfast."

"Thank you, Doctor." Aaron said and the doctor nodded, leaving the room. Aaron sighed, turning to look at his son again.

"You heard what the doctor said," Rossi said immediately. "Jack will be fine."

"He said Jack should be fine. There was no guarantee."

"There's no guarantee of anything," Dave argued. "You could take a sip of coffee and choke to death right now. Besides, the doctor said the avian flu rarely mutates so quickly which means they should be able to treat it easily."

Hotch didn't reply, still watching Jack's chest rise and fall.

"What about Garcia?" he asked, the frown never leaving his face. "She was exposed and she went to see Henry. Should we tell them?"

"Do you think we should?"

Finally, Aaron glanced at Dave.

"If it were the other way around, I'd want J.J. to tell me."

"Then call her."

Aaron pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled the media liaison.

"J.J.," he greeted. "How's Henry?"

J.J. sighed, glancing down at her son. He was as pale as the pillowcase.

"Not well," she said. "How's Jack? Are you still at the hospital?"

"Yes," Hotch replied. "Listen, J.J., the doctors think Jack has some new strain of the avian flu. He's under quarantine."

"Will he be alright?" J.J. asked immediately.

"The doctor seem to think so but Dave and I are in quarantine until we know, given our exposure."

"What about Garcia?"

"I'm going to call her next," Hotch said. "But I thought you should know, given that Garcia took care of Henry after staying with Jack."

"What did the doctor say about it?"

"We didn't mention it," he said. "We wanted you to make the decision about bringing Henry here."

"I'll talk to Will." J.J. told him. "I'll call you back."

"Alright."

Hotch ended the call and Rossi looked at him.

"What did she say?"

"She's going to talk to Will," Hotch replied, dialling Garcia. The phone rang five times before going to voicemail and Hotch tried her home number to the same end.

"I'll keep trying," Rossi said, pulling out his phone as Hotch's vibrated.

"J.J.," he answered.

"Can you tell the doctor to expect us? Will thinks we should take Henry in, just in case it's the same thing."

"Of course." Hotch replied. "See you soon."

He glanced at Rossi.

"J.J. and Will are bringing Henry in," he said. "Still nothing?"

"Zilch." Rossi replied and Hotch frowned. He went to Jack's bed and pressed the Nurse button and a moment later, a brunette wearing the gown, gloves, and mask appeared.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, noting Jack was still sleeping.

"There's another boy who may have the same thing," Hotch told her. "My co-worker's son got sick a day after Jack did and the same woman took care of them. They're bringing him here now."

"I'll find Dr. Clyde," she said. "Have you contacted the woman who took care of the children? She'll need to be quarantined as well."

"We're trying," Hotch said, motioning to Rossi.

The nurse nodded and left with the information. For a while, they weren't sure what was happening but half an hour later, J.J., Will, and Henry joined them in the quarantine room. Henry, who looked even smaller in his bed, was crying because of the IV in his arm.

"J.J.," Hotch said to his friend once the orderlies had left. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea Jack was this sick or else I wouldn't have let Garcia near Henry."

"Relax." J.J. said, glancing at Henry and Will. "You had no way of knowing. None of us did. Where's Garcia?"

"We can't get in touch with her." Rossi replied. "I've been trying all morning."

"Do you think something has happened?"

"I don't know." Hotch answered with a sigh. "How's Henry?"

They both looked at the three-year-old, now nestled in Will's arms.

"Scared," J.J. answered. "He doesn't understand what's going on. The doctor's gave him the IV for hydration but nothing else until they get more results back."

"More? What tests have they done?"

"Enough to determine it's the same strain of flu," J.J. replied. "Hence the quarantine."

"Did they ask you about livestock?" Rossi asked and J.J. nodded.

"The closest Henry has been to an animal is the preschool's goldfish," she replied. "And somehow I don't think that gave him avian flu."

"No," Hotch said with a thin smile, though it fell away almost instantly.

"You alright?" J.J. asked and Hotch sighed.

"Yeah," he said, not making eye contact. "It's just … everything about this feels wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just a feeling," Hotch replied. "But something tells me that it wasn't an accident that it's Jack and Henry lying in these beds right now. Someone did this."

"But who? How?"

"I don't know." Hotch glanced at Rossi. "Any luck with Garcia?"

"No."

"Call Morgan," he said. "Tell her to go to Garcia's place and make sure she's alright."

"Do you want to let the rest of the team know what's going on?" J.J. asked.

"We may as well," Aaron replied. "If I'm right, we might need them. Besides, they all care about Jack and Henry."

"I'll call Reid," J.J. said, pulling out her phone.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Reid and Prentiss to be in the waiting room, though Morgan and Garcia were still missing.<p>

"Hotch, the door is locked and no one is answering the phone," Morgan said, pacing outside Garcia's apartment. "What do you want me to do?"

"Break it down," Hotch replied.

"I can't," Morgan answered. "After being shot I insisted she have the door metal plated and deadbolts put in. She wouldn't take the gun but she did take my advice on that. I won't be able to break that down."

Hotch sighed.

"Find some other way in, then," he said. "You've checked with the landlord for an extra key?"

"Landlord is away," Morgan replied, examining the hallway. "And Kevin doesn't have a key. I'll get in, don't worry."

Hotch nodded and ended the call.

"What did he say? Is Garcia alright?" J.J. asked from Henry's bed.

"Morgan can't get in," he said. "The door's locked and plated. She's not answering her phone."

J.J. frowned and looked back at Henry, stroking his hair.

"Daddy?" Jack whimpered and Aaron hurried to his son's side.

"What's wrong Jack?"

"My tummy hurts."

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No. I think I'm gonna be sick."

That was all the warning Hotch got and the next thing he knew, he was wearing the contents of Jack's stomach. All the adults looked on in sympathy, though Will and J.J. stayed where they were.

"Sorry," Jack mumbled, rubbing his eyes with a clenched fist.

"Shh," Hotch soothed, rubbing Jack's back. "It's alright, you didn't mean to."

"Here," Rossi said. "Take a sip of water. It'll get the yucky taste out of your mouth."

He helped Jack sip from the cup while Aaron ducked into the bathroom and tried to wash the stain – or at least the smell – from his shirt.

* * *

><p>"Do you think they'll be okay?" Reid asked Prentiss. Emily looked up at Reid, who was pale and there were bags under his eyes. She imagined she looked about the same.<p>

"I don't know, Reid," she answered honestly. "The doctors are doing what they can and they're with people who love them. That's the best thing right now."

Reid's foot was bouncing.

"I hate hospitals," he said, looking around. "I hate waiting in hospitals."

"I know," Emily replied.

The two lapsed into silence as the clock on the wall ticked away.

* * *

><p>Agent Derek Morgan had done a lot of things but shimmying through a ventilation duct had never been one of them. It looked a lot easier in the movies, he thought as he covered his nose with his hand to keep from breathing in the copious amounts of dust. He supposed he should consider himself lucky; Garcia's building was older and had been converted from some sort of factory, which meant the duct work was big enough for a full-grown man to fit through. It wasn't particularly roomy but it was enough.<p>

Peering down through one of the registers, Morgan stopped. He recognized the dark purple walls and zebra-print area rug.

"Gotcha," he murmured, pulling his utility knife from his belt. He pried the vent cover off and let it fall to the ground before lowering himself through the opening in the ceiling.

"Garcia?" he called. "Baby girl?"

There was no response and Morgan peered into the bathroom and then the bedroom.

"Garcia!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side. He touched her shoulder and Garcia screamed, sitting up and throwing off her night mask and pulling out her earbuds.

"Derek Morgan!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"We've been trying to reach you," Morgan explained. "Are you alright? You weren't answering your phone."

Garcia frowned and reached for her cell phone. She pressed a button but the screen stayed black.

"It's dead," she replied.

"What about the house number?"

"It's not working," she answered. "The landlord was supposed to take care of it but it's taking a while. What's going on? Is Jack alright?"

Morgan shook his head.

"He and Henry, plus Rossi, Hotch, J.J. and Will are in quarantine at the hospital. You need to join them."

"Quarantine? What happened?"

"The doctor thinks this may be a new strain of avian flu," Morgan replied. "They're doing tests and the quarantine is precautionary at this point."

"And they think that I have it, too?"

"Not necessarily," Morgan replied. "They just want to make sure you're alright. You've been exposed to both of them in the past twenty-four hours."

"Oh goodness, oh goodness," Garcia mumbled, frantically got out of bed and searching for a fresh set of clothes. "We need to get to the hospital."

"It's alright," Morgan replied. "Take your time."

"Take my time?" Garcia exclaimed. "We're talking about Hotch and J.J.'s _kids_! How can I take my time?"

Morgan didn't respond, mostly because Garcia had shut herself in the bathroom but he honestly didn't have a good answer. The lab tech appeared a moment later.

"Let's go," she said, walking past Morgan to the door. She pulled it, expecting it to be unlocked, and stumbled slightly when the door didn't budge.

"How did you get in?" she asked again, flipping the locks and opening the door.

"Duct work," Morgan replied with a grin. "Hotch told me to break the door down but, well, that wasn't going to happen so I had to find another way."

Garcia raised an eyebrow.

"Did you ask the neighbor?"

"What?"

"Patsy, two doors down. She has a key."

"Garcia."

"Don't worry," Garcia said with a smile. "I did a full background check first. She waters the plants when I'm away but enough chit-chat. We have to go!"

* * *

><p>"Where are they?" Garcia's voice carried down the hallway and Reid and Prentiss stood up.<p>

"Room five-twelve." Reid said. Garcia hurried away and Emily raised an eyebrow at Derek.

"What happened to you?"

Dust bunnies clung to most of Morgan's black ensemble.

"Don't ask." Morgan replied. "How are they?"

"The doctor's in there now."

Garcia opened the door and everyone turned to look at her, including the doctor.

"You must be Penelope Garcia," he said and Garcia nodded, eyes alternating between Jack and Henry.

"Are they alright? Please tell me they'll be alright."

"As I was just saying," the doctor continued. "Tests have confirmed that this is, in fact, a unique strain of avian flu. However, it was not contracted by animal contact."

"What do you mean?" Rossi asked.

"The infection, for lack of better terms, is too strong to have occurred naturally." The doctor replied. "These boys were dosed with the strain."

"You mean someone poisoned our kids?" Will asked, holding J.J.'s hand. The doctor nodded.

"Yes," he said.

"Are they contagious?"

"Because it's a strain of the flu we're not familiar with," the doctor replied. "They may be."

"Does that mean the quarantine is still in effect?"

"Yes." The doctor replied. "But I'm afraid it's more serious than that."

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked.

"I understand your team has been in close contact since Jack first got sick, is that correct?"

"Yes. Does that matter?"

"It does," the doctor replied. "All of you will need to be placed under observation and have tests run. We'd also like to give you the vaccine we have for avian flu. It may not be effective, as it was made to protect against a different strain, but it can't hurt. We don't have enough beds to keep you all here," the doctor continued. "So we're transferring you all to a hospital in Georgia. The Centre for Disease Control will work with you there."

"Is that really necessary?" Rossi asked and the doctor nodded.

"We need to isolate you as much as possible," the doctor answered. "And no hospital in the city has the space."

"Can we use a house?"

"Theoretically," he said. "But it would need to be big enough to accommodate all of you while being secluded enough to ensure neighbours aren't placed in any danger."

"We'll use my place." Rossi announced and Aaron looked at him.

"That's not necessary, Dave. We can go to Georgia."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rossi replied, looking at the doctor. "I have plenty of space and the nearest neighbour is almost five acres away."

"You'll need to clear it with the CDC and see if they can send their staff here," the doctor replied. "If they okay it, then it sounds reasonable to me."

"Thank you." Rossi said and the doctor turned to Garcia, asking her how she felt. Hotch looked at Rossi.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course," Rossi replied. "But you were right; there's something bigger going on here. If we stay at my place, we can try and figure out who did this. We've been targets before, Aaron, and I'm sure there's someone out there sick enough to target Henry and Jack as a way to get to us. I want to know who and I want to stop them."

Aaron nodded.

"I agree," he said. "But let's keep our investigation quiet. I don't want the doctors knowing we're investigating this. If we're dealing with an unsub who poisons children with a strain of avian flu, chances are they have a very specific medical background."

"Right." Rossi replied. "I'm going to make a few calls to get the house ready."

He saw Aaron glance at his son.

"We'll catch whoever did this, Aaron."

"I know."

**So … lots happened here and lots more is going to. Please review! **


	5. Raised Stakes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**My plans have failed me, I'm afraid. I completely intended to have this chapter edited and posted before I moved but it's been sitting half-edited on my computer for over a week now. I'm so sorry for the delay! Thank you all, as always, for your encouragement and support of the story and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. **

Four hours later, the team found themselves in Rossi's home. The doctor from the hospital was there, as well as two doctors wearing white coats emblazoned with the CDC logo. Will was watching Henry and Jack, both of whom were sleeping.

"Hello, everyone," the doctor from the hospital began. "I'd like to introduce to you Dr. Colleen Keyes," he motioned to the woman, whose black hair was pulled into a ponytail. She smiled kindly at them.

"And this is her assistant, Dr. Paxton Reynolds."

The man had round glasses and didn't smile but nodded firmly.

"They're from the Center for Disease Control and their labs are running tests on the blood samples we sent this morning. Dr. Keyes and Dr. Reynolds are going to take over Jack and Henry's care. The local hospitals have been alerted and will be kept up-to-date so they can watch for similar symptoms in other patients."

He turned to Dr. Keyes.

"I've got to get back to the hospital," he said. "So I'll leave them in your capable hands."

"Thanks for everything," Aaron said, shaking the doctor's hand as he left. Dr. Keyes moved to the middle of the circle.

"As I'm sure you're aware," Dr. Keyes said, and her voice was warm and comforting. "Jack and Henry have a strain of avian flu. Samples have been sent to the labs at the CDC as well as the United States National Institutes of Health in Maryland to determine exactly how the strain has been altered and what affect this will have on their treatment. Until we know more about the strain, it's important to keep the quarantine but please don't worry. All indicators point to this being a non-contagious strain. However, Dr. Reynolds is going to vaccinate each of you with the H5N1 vaccine as an added precaution."

"What about Jack and Henry?"

"Because they've already contracted the strain," answered Dr. Keyes. "The vaccine would do little to serve them at this point. For now, we've made them comfortable with pain relievers, sedatives, and we're keeping them hydrated via an IV drip."

"Are we allowed to visit them?" Garcia asked and Dr. Keyes smiled.

"Of course," she said. "Downstairs has been converted to a treatment facility. There are ten beds and medical equipment in the great room. Jack and Henry are down there down and should any of you fall ill, you'll be required to stay there as well. The rest of the time, feel free to make yourselves comfortable around the house. We can't permit you to go outside but Agent Rossi has told me that the rooms upstairs have been made up and you're free to sleep in them."

She glanced at Rossi and he nodded confirmation.

"We'll be keeping close tabs on your health in the next couple of days." Dr. Keyes continued. "Dr. Reynolds and I will be logging your vitals thrice daily and taking a blood sample every evening. We'll be sending these to the CDC for testing. However, please tell one of us immediately if you start to feel ill in any way. The earlier we can target symptoms, the better."

Her phone vibrated and she glanced at it.

"Excuse me," she said. "I have to take this."

Dr. Reynolds stepped forward.

"If you come with me," he said awkwardly. "I'll vaccinate you."

He led the agents into Rossi's dining room, where he'd laid out eight syringes. One by one, the agents rolled up their sleeves and received the vaccine.

"Please let us know if you feel uncomfortable or ill," he repeated, taking the final vaccine and going downstairs. He left the room and Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"Alright," he said. "What have we got? What's the plan?"

Hotch glanced over his shoulder to make sure neither doctor was within earshot.

"We need to think of who has the ability, skills, and equipment to manipulate the strain."

"We also need to consider who has it out for Hotch and J.J.," Rossi added. "These weren't random choices; there's a reason these two kids got sick."

Aaron glanced at J.J., noting she looked exhausted. He wondered if he had similar dark circles under his eyes.

"We'll need a trigger and a stressor," Morgan added. He turned to Garcia. "Can you do some magic and find a list of people who have died from avian flu in the past ten years? Look at immediate family members. Maybe there's a personal reason for choosing avian flu."

"Of course," Garcia said.

"Also begin running searches on research projects and grants," Reid said. "In 2007, a team at the United States National Institutes of Health began a study where people voluntarily contracted the flu. Their illness was observed so doctors could better predict the impacts of a weakened immune system. Similar studies may have been requested for avian flu."

"Got it." Garcia replied. "Anything else?"

"Cast a wide net," Rossi said. "Check people with the proper education background for this sort of thing. Med schools, PhD dissertations, private labs."

"That's a lot of people," Garcia said. "But I'll cross-check all the names."

"I'll talk to Jack," Hotch said. "Maybe he can remember something suspicious in the days before he got sick."

"I'll do the same with Henry," J.J. added.

"Remember," Rossi said firmly. "We need to keep this quiet. We don't want anyone knowing we're looking into this."

The team dispersed; Garcia, Morgan, Reid, and Emily moved to the study, where Garcia started hooking up laptops, and the others went downstairs.

"Daddy?" Jack asked when the door opened. Hotch went to his son's bedside.

"I'm right here," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What's going on?"

Aaron sighed.

"The doctors aren't sure how you got sick," Aaron replied. "So they've put us all in something called quarantine. It means that no one is allowed to leave Uncle Dave's house until they know that we aren't going to make everyone sick."

Jack looked scared.

"Am I going to die?" he asked and Hotch shook his head.

"No," he said. "The doctors are doing everything they can to make sure you're alright."

Jack sighed.

"Jack," Hotch began slowly. "Do you remember anything out of the ordinary happening the day before you got sick?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Think really hard. It was Monday. Did something happen at school?"

"No."

"Nothing at all?"

"No. Why are you asking me this, Daddy?"

"Do you remember what I told you about being a profiler?"

"You ask people questions about ordinary things cause you can see what others missed."

"Right," Aaron said with a smile. "I'm asking you questions to see if something that may have seemed ordinary made you sick."

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "I can't remember."

"It's not your fault," Hotch replied. "Sometimes people don't remember. You've tried your best and that's all you can do. How do you feel?"

Aaron placed his hand on Jack's forehead.

"Gross."

"Try to go to sleep," Hotch murmured and the worry evident in the lines around his eyes.

* * *

><p>A bed over, J.J. was snuggling with Henry. Will had gone upstairs after Dr. Reynolds had given him the vaccine, hoping to find something some coffee.<p>

"Did someone come and visit you on Monday? A friend, maybe?"

Henry shook his head miserably. Unlike Jack, Henry was too small to remember details of days that blended together.

"It's alright," J.J. soothed, pulling Henry closer to her. "Just close your eyes."

Henry did as he was told and J.J. glanced at Hotch worriedly. Hotch tried to smile back but it came out as a sympathetic grimace.

"Dad?" Jack asked and Hotch glanced down at his son. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course," Hotch replied. Feeling slightly self-conscious, he climbed onto the bed and Jack curled up next to him. It felt slightly foreign knowing that J.J. was seeing a side of him he rarely showed. The team had seen him in numerous vulnerable positions but this was different. They'd stood at his side numerous times – everything from bedside to graveside – but they'd never seen him interact so closely with Jack. Hotch couldn't shake the feeling that his blonde co-worker was watching him as Jack curled up next to his dad. He didn't look over to the other bed and, once Jack's breathing slowing down, he closed his own eyes.

* * *

><p>"Agent Hotchner?" Dr. Keyes gently shook Aaron's shoulder and he was immediately awake.<p>

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to wake you," she said. "But I need to examine Jack."

"Sorry, of course," Hotch mumbled, getting off the bed. He glanced over and saw Will sitting next to Henry, looking at picture books with him, and then watched the doctor examine his son. Jack was still pretty groggy but Dr. Keyes took his temperature, listened to his breathing, and replaced the IV bag.

"How is he?"

Dr. Keyes motioned him down the corridor so they didn't disturb Jack, Henry, or Will.

"He's stable," she said. "But Jack's temperature is quite high. The only improvement we've seen is a decrease in his vomiting thanks to the antiemetic. However, we'll need to be careful how much we use that drug as it can present certain side effects that make it difficult to track Jack's progress."

"What sort of side effects?"

"It can affect his body temperature," Dr. Keyes replied. "And it can potentially make him quite dizzy. So far Jack seems to be responding to it quite well but that could change as we start introducing new drugs based on the test results. Our plan is to slowly decrease the dosage before administering any new drug."

"When will you have to do that?"

"We'll be receiving the test results by midnight," Dr. Keyes said. "So it we'll likely wait until about nine o'clock. Hopefully Jack can eat some supper before we take him off the medication."

Hotch glanced at Jack, feeling sorry for what he knew his son was going to go through in the upcoming hours.

"Why don't you go upstairs for a while?" Dr. Keyes suggested. "I know you want to stay with him but believe me, Agent Hotchner, it can be exhausting for parents to sit vigil at their child's bedside. I'll be here if he wakes up."

Aaron didn't look convinced.

"Just a little while, I insist. You can't let yourself get worn down. Get a cup of coffee, chat with your friends."

"Come and get me if you need anything." Hotch finally said and Dr. Keyes nodded.

"Of course."

Hotch went upstairs and found most of his team in the living room.

"Hey, how's Jack?" Morgan asked and Hotch sighed.

"Sleeping."

"So were you," J.J. replied with a smile. "Coffee?"

Hotch nodded and J.J. left the room, returning with a cup of coffee for her boss.

"Extra strong," she said.

"Thanks." Hotch took a sip. "How are you holding up?"

J.J. sighed.

"I'm alright," she said. "Will and I are taking turns with him but we feel so helpless."

"I know the feeling."

"We're all here to help, Sir," Garcia said from across the room and Hotch nodded.

"I know. I think I'm going to get something to eat. Excuse me."

Hotch took his coffee into the kitchen and found Rossi clicking away on his computer.

"Aaron," he said, glancing up and closing the laptop. "How are you?"

"Tired," Hotch replied, taking an apple from the fruit bowl. "I fell asleep on Jack's bed."

"How is he?"

"Still sleeping," Aaron said. "Dr. Keyes said he's not getting much better, apart from not throwing up so much but they're going to change his medication soon in anticipation of the test results in."

"Sounds like you might be in for a long night. Why don't you go crash upstairs for a few hours? I'll sit with Jack if he wakes up."

Hotch took the last sip of his coffee, rotating the apple in the palm of his other hand. He felt too worried to eat.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Dave. Dr. Keyes might come looking for me but if you're down there, tell her not to bother unless Jack's asking for me."

"Sure thing. Sleep well."

Hotch left the kitchen, tossing the apple into the compost bin on his way out. He went upstairs, taking his go-bag from the front hall, and found a bedroom.

* * *

><p>"Has anyone seen Hotch?" Morgan asked as they passed around containers of food that evening.<p>

"He's upstairs," Rossi replied. "I told him to nap for a few hours. We should probably wake him, though. He hasn't eaten much today."

"I'll go," Emily replied, leaving her barstool at the island and going upstairs. She found a closed door in the main hallway and knocked.

"Hotch?" she called. "Dinner is ready."

There was no reply and Emily opened the door slightly.

"Hotch," she said a little louder and Aaron's eyes opened and he sat up.

"Yeah?"

Emily went in all the way and smiled.

"Glad to see you got some sleep," she said. "Dinner is ready."

"Thanks," Aaron said, rubbing his eyes.

"How are the boys?"

"They're about the same. Jack is still dozing."

"Good." Hotch walked around the bed, though he stopped by the footboard and grabbed onto it for balance. Emily saw him hang his head and take a deep breath.

"Hotch?" Emily asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Hotch's head rose and he took a few steps forward. Emily frowned.  
>"Are you sure? You know what Dr. Keyes said."<p>

"I'm fine, Emily. Come on, everyone's waiting for us."

Hotch pushed past her and Emily frowned but followed. Everyone sat down to eat and they tried to keep the mood light but it was difficult and there were often long stretches of silence.

"Hotch," Emily said halfway through the meal. She'd noticed that Aaron was merely pushing food around his plate. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Everyone turned to Hotch, who glared slightly at Emily before sighing.

"I'm just not hungry."

"Have you eaten today?" Morgan asked.

"I had breakfast," Hotch replied. "And lunch. I promise you I'm fine."

He put his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back.

"I'm going to check on Jack."

Hotch left the table and everyone exchanged worried glances.

"He was dizzy when he stood up," Emily explained. "And he wasn't eating."

"Should we mention it to Dr. Keyes or Dr. Reynolds?" J.J. asked.

"He might just be worried about Jack," Will said. "I don't have much of an appetite, either. I'd rather be with Henry but J.J. insisted I come up."

"I'll talk to him," Morgan said, standing up. He left the table and went downstairs.

"Docs," he said to Dr. Keyes and Dr. Reynolds, who were sitting near the door. "There's food upstairs, feel free to help yourselves."

He glanced at Hotch and then at the doctors again. Dr. Keyes nodded, taking the hint.

"Come on, Pax," she said, standing. The young man glanced down the ward and then stood silently, following his co-worker.

Aaron was sitting on the edge of Jack's bed, studying his son's face while sponging it with a damp cloth.

"I'm fine," Aaron said before Morgan could say anything. Derek glanced at Henry, who was fast asleep, and smiled at the sight before looking at Hotch.

"I didn't say you weren't," Morgan replied. "But you seem to be awfully defensive about it. That tells me you're hiding something."

Hotch sighed.

"Don't."

"Don't what? Be worried? Hotch, we're concerned about you. Emily told us what happened upstairs and she's right, you weren't touching your food. Something is bothering you. What aren't you telling us?"

Hotch sighed and put the cloth down. He turned to Morgan.

"I don't know what's wrong," he said finally. "I'm worried about Jack but there's something else that isn't sitting right."

"Emotionally or physically?"

"Both."

"Are you worried enough to make yourself sick?"

"I don't know."

"So you don't feel well?"

Aaron sighed.

"No."

"Then you need to tell the doctors and get it checked out. Jack and Henry were drugged and for all we know, you have been, too."

Hotch closed his eyes to ease the pulsing of his head.

"Fine," he said. "Get Dr. Keyes down here."

"Good man," Morgan said. "Be right back."

Morgan disappeared and returned with the doctor.

"Agent Morgan tells me you're not feeling well," she said to Hotch, who glanced at Jack before nodding.

"He's right."

"Why don't you come lie down and I'll do a few tests," Dr. Keyes said, motioning to the next empty bed. The bed was still in its upright position and, despite being a hospital bed, Hotch found it to be quite comfortable. Morgan stood in the shadows as the doctor returned with a pair of gloves, a clipboard, and a caddy of equipment.

"Can you describe your symptoms?"

"I have a headache," Hotch replied. "And I got light-headed when I stood up too quickly."

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Not a lot," Hotch replied.

"Alright," the doctor put her clipboard down. "Just relax for me."

The doctor felt Hotch's glands and Morgan saw him wince at her touch. She pulled a light from the toolkit and shone it in the dark eyes before un-looping the stethoscope from around her neck.

"Deep breath," she instructed. She moved the disk several places and didn't make any comment as she looped it back around her neck.

"And finally," she said, holding out the probe of an electronic thermometer.

"What's it say?" Hotch asked, once the device had signalled its completion.

"One hundred point three." Dr. Keyes said, raising her eyebrow. "I'll take another blood sample and have it analyzed but there is no doubt in my mind that you're coming down with something. The question of the day is if it's the same thing that's making your son ill."

"What do I need to do?" Hotch asked.

"Nothing," Dr. Keyes replied. "That is, nothing short of changing into a gown and making yourself comfortable. You'll need to stay down here until we get your test results back."

She handed Hotch the folded gown.

"I'll be back in a few moments," she said.

"Thanks." Hotch replied dryly, taking the gown. He raised an eyebrow at Morgan.

"Pleased?"

"That you're sick? Of course not." Morgan replied. "But I'm glad there are people here to make sure you're alright. I'll give you some privacy."

* * *

><p>"How's Hotch?" J.J. asked when Morgan appeared in the dining room. He had passed Dr. Keyes on the steps and assumed she'd shared the diagnosis with the team.<p>

"About as well as can be expected."

He glanced at Dr. Reynolds.

"Is there any word from the CDC about the test results?"

"Not yet." Dr. Reynolds replied, taking a bit of his sandwich. "We should hear in about an hour, though Dr. Keyes wants to send new samples given Agent Hotchner's condition."

The team exchanged glances, questions forming, but they waited till Dr. Reynolds had finished eating and left.

"If Hotch is sick," Reid said immediately. "Then that means the strain could be contagious."

"What does that mean for us?" Garcia asked, worriedly.

"Nothing good," Emily said, stabbing a baby tomato with her fork.

"Let's not get distracted," Rossi said. "This doesn't change the fact that someone drugged Jack and Henry. What have you found, Garcia?"

"Not a lot, I'm afraid." Garcia replied, turning to take a laptop off the hutch. "The searches brought back thousands of names and even cross-checking them, there's still hundreds of possible candidates."

"We need to narrow this down. What have you three come up with for a profile?" Rossi asked, glancing at Morgan, Emily, and Reid.

"Nothing that can be put into a computer database," Emily said. "We know he's narcissistic, sadistic, and has a god-complex,"

"Wait," Will interrupted. "A god-complex _and_ a narcissist? Can someone be both?"

"Absolutely," Reid replied. "Whoever did this holds a very high standard of his work. He knows that he's the best and he wants people to see it. That makes him narcissistic but because inducing an illness to prove his superiority tells us he's also got a god-complex. People with that sort of complex thrive on being able to control aspects of life that are supposedly dictated by nature – things like life and death, sickness and health. He enjoys showing his power over other people's lives."

Will nodded to show he understood.

"We've been working another question," Morgan added. "Why the BAU? Garcia's trying to find connections between the names on those lists and the Bureau."

"This is all good in theory," Rossi said with a sigh. "Unfortunately, we need more to go on. Once we get the test results back, we can narrow the field of specialization even more."

Garcia looked up from her notebook.

"We'll find this guy, right? And everyone will be okay?"

Derek smiled at her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Of course, Baby Girl. Do we ever fail?"

"You can't save everyone, Derek." Penelope's eyes filled with tears and Morgan sighed.

"I know, Princess. But this time, we'll win. The stakes are too high not to."

… **the plot thickens! Please review – it will make my day! Thanks =)**


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